


Not that he cared

by Shiner



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2428625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiner/pseuds/Shiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt and Minho started to fall into somewhat of a routine, meeting at the quad every Tuesday, before walking to Psych together. Minho called him pretty boy at least thrice during the day – not that Newt was counting. He would sit next to him and pass him notes that Newt tried to ignore, until one day he didn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He called him 'Pretty Boy', not that Newt cared.

It’s not like Newt had a crush on the cocky sophomore. It’s just that he had this butt, and these eyes, and a smile that could make anyone drop their pants in negative three seconds. He didn’t actually like Minho – he was rude, and loud and always dug around in everyone else’s business.

Even if Newt did like Minho, it didn’t matter because he already has his Thomas, who was way out of Newt’s league anyway, so Newt didn’t stand a chance. Sure, Thomas was cute, with his slender physique and altruism, but the way Minho talked about him, you’d think he was a god. Not that Newt was listening. It’s just that Minho talks too loud for his own good, and Brenda has a way of teasing him about it, in front of the entire class. Minho doesn’t mind though, because he’s already got ‘the love of his life.’ Except the love of Minho’s life isn’t Newt.

Not that Newt wants to be the love of Minho’s life. But he wouldn’t mind being the guy groping his ass on his way to his next class. Newt has never been a fan of PDA, but if he was with Minho he might be.

Luckily he only has to deal with Minho’s intoxicating presence once a week: Tuesday’s during Psych. Today was said Tuesday, and Newt was on his way to class when he heard the all too familiar voice of Minho Park.

“‘Ey! Pretty boy, wait up!” At first he figured Minho was calling after Thomas, but when the insistent yelling didn’t stop after a good 15 seconds, he turned around to see what all the fuss was about. Sure enough,  _the_  Minho Park was jogging towards him.

"Finally! I thought I was gonna have to chase you all the way to the classroom." Newt just arched an eyebrow at him, not completely certain this was happening.

"Don"t look at me like that, you’re making me feel self-conscious."

Newt just blinked at him for a few more seconds before mumbling, “Whaddya want?”

Minho looked straight-out offended at that. “What? I can’t attempt to befriend someone without being interrogated?”

Newt sighed. “Is this how you make all your friends? Provoke them until they give in?”

"Pretty much, yeah." Minho laughed. They were only a hundred meters from the Psych building.

"Why me?" Newt was still suspicious of Minho’s intentions.

"Why not? Hell, you’re the prettiest shuck-face here, excluding me and Thomas, that is," Minho confessed.  _Of course, he just had to bring up ‘Tommy.’_

"Shuck-face?" Newt stared blankly at Minho. Minho opened the front door for Newt.

"Shit, right, sorry. I just, I look after my younger siblings, it’s complicated, but yeah I just – to avoid swearing. I came up with my own words," Newt stopped in his tracks. They’d arrived at the classroom.

"Wow, that’s uh – actually really sweet." Newt was at a loss for words, so he just sort of gaped at Minho.

"Don’t look so surprised." He winked at Newt before finding Brenda and the others gathered around his desk at the back.

***

A week passed before Minho talked to him again. A clear bellow across the campus “Yo, pretty boy!” Newt couldn’t help how the corners of his mouth turned up as he turned to face the boy. Sure enough, Minho was smiling at him as he ran across the quad to catch up to him. 

“‘Sup?” Minho said once he’d reached hearing distance, more of a greeting then a question.

"Why’d you call me that?"

Minho squinted at him, as he caught his breath.

"What?" he panted. “‘Sup?’ Oh, that’s a – a thing we say here – in America, it’s a contraction of the phrase ‘What’s up’ –” Minho took a deep breath before continuing. “What’s up means –”

"Oh for fuck’s sake I know what ‘sup’ means," Minho squinted at him again.

"Then why’d you ask?" Wounded was the best way to describe Minho at that moment.

"I was asking why you called me pretty boy, genius." A look of realization dawned on Minho’s face. He started to laugh, full-out, bent-over laughing.

"Then why the shuck didn’t you stop me earlier in my wonderful explanation?"

Newt shrugged. “I found it amusing.”

Minho punched Newt’s shoulder softly, and they walked towards the Psych building in silence.

It was a good minute before Newt spoke up. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Minho stopped, waiting for Newt to do the same before looking him straight in the eyes. “You hella fine.” He then continued to walk, as if nothing had happened. Newt felt sort of dazed, and he couldn’t think of a response so he just continued to walk with a slight blush on his cheeks.

***

Psych was relatively boring, but for whatever reason Minho had decided to abandon his posse in favor of sitting with Newt. Newt liked this new development, not because he particularly cared for Minho and his adorable laugh, but because it suddenly made the class a lot more quiet, making it easier for him to actually focus.

***

Newt and Minho started to fall into somewhat of a routine, meeting at the quad every Tuesday, before walking to Psych together. Minho called him pretty boy at least thrice during the day – not that Newt was counting. He would sit next to him and pass him notes that Newt tried to ignore, until one day he didn’t.

Because one day he got the note:  _Will you be **my**  pretty boy? ;*_

Newt blushed and looked away. He crumpled up the paper and ignored Minho for the next five minutes, but something kept eating at him. He unfolded the paper and scribbled quickly while the professor wasn’t paying attention.

_What about Tommy?_

Minho smirked at that – not that Newt was paying attention – and jotted something down too.

_He also thinks you’re pretty._

Newt was suddenly even more confused. He assessed the situation and decided it would be best to just leave things be for the moment. Except Minho hit him in the head with another note. Newt was getting pretty annoyed by this point.

_He doesn’t mind who I date, though I’d prefer to be with you guys… together. Friday 8pm meet me at the quad?_

Just as he finished reading the note, Minho slid another neatly folded note onto Newt’s desk.

_Consider it?_

"Mr. Park, are you paying attention?" Professor Janson scoffed.

"Yes sir," Minho replied in a mock-military tone, winking at Newt.

"Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind describing what a parapraxis is to the rest of the class.” Janson’s scowl increased when Minho stood up on his desk and faced the rest of the class.

"A parapraxis, more commonly known as a freudian slip is when your subconscious interferes with your actions or senses. A freudian slip is usually associated with errors in speech or writing, in which you say or write what you’re subconsciously thinking, instead of what you meant to say or write. The psychological phenomena was first discussed by psychologist Sigmund Freud in 1901 in his book The Psychopathology of Everyday Life." He turned to Janson. "Is that good enough or would you like me to recite the entire Wikipedia article?” Minho asked smugly.

Janson cleared his throat. “No that is quite alright, in fact it seems we have run out of time, lesson dismissed,” Janson declared.

Minho got off the chair to gather his stuff. Newt just sort of gaped at him.  _Bloody hell, this kid is smart._  Minho snapped his fingers in front of Newt’s face, and Newt jumped out of his trance. “Can you – can you really recite the entire Wikipedia article about the freudian slip?”

Minho just laughed. “Nah, but it shut him up, didn’t it?”. He waited for Newt to finish packing up his stuff before asking “So, we on for Friday?” Newt couldn’t imagine ever saying no to Minho, but he didn’t know if he could ever say yes to such a proposal, so he just smiled and nodded and screamed internally.

***

The rest of the week was a nightmare.

Newt made up and changed his mind about four times an hour. On Thursday, he didn’t have any morning classes, so he usually spent the time catching up on work, but this Thursday he spent an entire hour typing and retyping a cancellation, and then a rain check, and then a confirmation message. He ended up getting so frustrated that he just threw his phone on the bed, resulting in him accidentally sending ‘hedgehog’ (autocorrected from ‘hgjdedghjt’), which if anything, made things worse.

Three hours later he got a response from Minho ’?’ How eloquent. He replied ‘wrong number,’ because that sounded like as good of an explanation as any, until he got another reply: ‘to who, and in what context does ‘hedgehog’ make sense?’. Newt decided to ignore the message until at least after Gender Studies. He realized a little too late that ignoring Minho was possibly the worst thing he could do in any situation. In fact, once he got a chance to check his phone he had no less than 12 messages from Minho, the last one being ‘like “hey would you let me put my prick in you?’”, so Newt was sort of weary when he unlocked his phone to read the other messages.

'Is it like code?'

'some british slang word that’s too sophisticated for us common americans?’

'hedgehog….'

'oh come on, just tell me already'

'…'

'hedgehogs have pricks'

'dude is it some sort of british booty call?’

'i ask you out and you go behind my back to bootycall some british beauty, eh?’

'are they prettier than me?'

'you are such a douce’

'what kind of bootycall would that even be tho’

'like “hey would you let me put my prick in you?'

Newt hated to take part in this, but he just had to reply.

'It would work on you'

The reply was almost immediate.

'you're right, i'm a sucker for your british charm’

'wait, so it really is a british booty call?’

Newt rolled his eyes at that, which perhaps was a good thing, because he barely noticed he was walking in the wrong direction.

'No, you idiot'

He put his phone in his pocket, but he only managed to walk a few more meters before his phone vibrated again.

'thank god I’m not the only one who thinks he’s an idiot, he’s been going on and on about he outsmarted ratman, it’s exhausting’

Newt was utterly perplexed for a whole thirty seconds until he realized what was happening.

'Tommy?'

'it's thomas'

'Right, Tommy'

'sure, whatever. so how was gender studies?'

'How did you know I was taking gender studies?'

'minho won't shut up about you “but thomas he’s a feminist, i think i'm in love”’

Newt blushed at that, but then he got another message.

'i never said that!'

and another

'you didn't have to. you're still coming on friday, right?’

'uhh, yeah?'

'can't wait'

That was the last message Newt received, and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or slightly disappointed. He also wasn’t entirely sure who sent it, but he decided it didn’t really matter.

What he did know was that there was no way of canceling now.


	2. They held hands, not that Newt cared.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walked in silence for a while longer before Newt started to hear muffled voices and see bright lights from the street above. On the buildings surrounding them there were neon lights with semi-offensive terms such as “Twink-Town” and “Ditch the Dyke,” and Newt felt like a deer in headlights.

On Friday, Newt was a mess. Not only did he not finish class until five, but he also had no idea what to wear. Is there a certain protocol for when your crush asks you out with his boyfriend? In a moment of bleak desperation Newt tried to Google it, but all that came up were  women’s  article on “12 signs your crush would make a good boyfriend” and weird Japanese porn. By that time it was 6:50, and he was panicking.

He had just under an hour to get ready. Instead of doing anything productive with his panic, he paced the room. In fact, he was still pacing when  Alby  got back from the gym five minutes later.

"Dude, you okay?"  Alby  asked, half-concerned and half-joking.

"No, yes? I don’t know… Minho asked me out."

Alby  came up to him, looked him in the eyes, and said “Why are you freaking out? This is good news! He’s like campus royalty.”

Newt stopped pacing and looked at  Alby . “Did you just quote Mean Girls?”

"It’s a good movie. Although, hold up, isn’t Minho dating that chipmunk from Gamma Omega?"  Alby  exclaimed.

"Exactly." Newt let out an exasperated sigh.

"Wait, so it’s like a ‘hot steamy hush hush affair’ sort of thing?"

Newt rolled his eyes. ”You really need to stop watching Desperate Housewives. And no. It’s not like that, but I don’t know. He asked me out, but he asked me out, like, with Thomas.”

"Shit. And you said yes?"  Alby  asked, wide-eyed.

"Obviously. I just, I’m not sure what exactly I said yes to." Newt paused. "Or what I’m supposed to wear."

Alby  blinked at him for a few seconds before speaking. “Well, did he say where you were going?”

"No, he just said to meet at the quad, in, oh god, 45 minutes. Fuck."

Alby  looked at him as if he were a five-year old, crying because his teddy bear was just out of his reach. ”Relax.”

"How am I supposed to relax when I have no idea what is going on?  I need to know stuff  Alby . I need order,” Newt let out, matching  Alby’s  condescending look.

"Then create your own fucking order,"  Alby  said, staring Newt straight in the eyes.

Newt sighed. ”Yeah okay, but what am I supposed to wear?”

Alby  smirked at him, “Now that, I can help you with.”

It turned out it wasn’t as easy to give Newt a make over as  Alby  expected, but he made do. The problem was mainly that  Alby’s  clothes were either too short or too baggy on Newt, and all of Newt’s clothes made him look straight out of a  Berkely  catalog. Newt argued it made him look classy,  Alby  countered that, for this, he shouldn’t aim to look classy.

In the end they settled on one of  Alby’s  smaller  hoodies  and Newt’s only pair of skinny jeans. By that time it was 7:45 and Newt would have to run to make it on time.  Alby  advised against this – being fashionably late went with his new look. Newt insisted he wasn’t even sure it was a date, but didn’t really say much more before sprinting out the door.

He did sort of take  Alby’s  advice by only sprinting the first half, giving himself enough time to catch his breath and look somewhat “chill,” as  Alby  put it. Minho was already at the quad by the time Newt arrived, wearing a gray denim vest on top of a black  hoodie , unzipped. He somehow managed to look suave and unfazed, yet completely smitten at the same time. Newt was once again dazed by the existence of such a being. Minho cleared his throat.

"Uh, Thomas is waiting for us at the diner, so if you’re ready…" he said, raising his elbow so that Newt could interlock his with it. He did.

"Where exactly is this mystery location?" Newt asked, because ‘the diner’ really didn’t say much.

"Just wait and see." Minho smirked.

Newt really didn’t like surprises, but he did really like the heat of  Minho’s  body close to his as he lead the way, so it wasn’t like he was going to complain.

A while down the road, Minho turned left, and Newt was suddenly outside his familiar quarter. He wouldn’t admit it to Minho, but it made him feel sort of wary, so he held on a bit tighter. Minho responded by following his arm down to his hand and intertwining their fingers. He squeezed his hand and smiled. Just then Newt realized this was the longest he’d heard Minho go without talking.

"So… Thomas is on board with this?" Newt asked, trying to make conversation, but regretting it immediately afterwards when  Minho’s  grip loosened.

"Yeah, of course. He was basically the one to suggest it. Hey, have you ever gone rollerskating before?” Newt wondered about the sudden change in topic, but decided to drop it. If something was off, he’d know soon enough.

"Why? That’s not what we’re doing, right?" Newt spoke hastily, trying to convey how much he really didn’t want to make a fool out of himself by rollerskating on his first date.

"No, no, relax. I was just… curious" Minho had a mischievous look in his eyes.

They walked in silence for a while longer before Newt started to hear muffled voices and see bright lights from the street above. On the buildings surrounding them there were neon lights with semi-offensive terms such as “Twink-Town” and “Ditch the Dyke,” and Newt felt like a deer in headlights.

There were a  lot  of people, none of which Newt knew, and it freaked him out. He honestly didn’t realize how tight he was holding on until Minho squeezed him back. Minho said something about turning back, and that he didn’t have to, but Newt felt better the second he saw  Minho’s  reassuring smile and insisted they go on.

"Honestly, I wasn’t sure you would agree to come if I told you where we were going, but in hindsight, that was a pretty shitty thing to do. So I’m sorry for being such a shank." Minho hung his head slightly before bouncing back up again "We’re here," he grinned. Newt just nodded, at a loss for words.

The sign above the door said “Jake’s Place,” and it actually looked cozy. Minho, still holding his hand, led him in and scanned the room. Newt didn’t really know how to describe the place. The furniture and layout looked just like an old fashioned diner, but the furniture and decor looked like the baby of techno and  steampunk , with rainbow flags basically everywhere. Despite it all, it sort of worked. Thomas was waving from one of the booths, smiling at them.

"Yeah, I know it’s a lot to take in, they’ve got this whole cyberpunk  queercore  thing going on, but they make the best milkshakes in town, have free  wifi  and don’t give a shit who you bring in or who you make out with.” Minho winked at the last part, walking towards Thomas. It was only then Newt realized Minho was no longer holding his hand, and was now several feet ahead of him. Newt willed himself to join the others, both now sitting at the booth, across from each other. Newt decided it was safest to sit next to Minho.

"Hey." Thomas grinned.

"Hey, Tommy," Newt smiled nervously. He was too busy looking at his shoes to notice how Thomas flinched at that.

"So… It seems like they updated the menu since last time," Minho commented, obviously trying to break some sort of tension. Newt glanced at the menu, and all the dishes were completely foreign to him.

"Uhm, what exactly is a ‘french kissing bulldog’?" Newt asked.

Minho chuckled lightly. ”It’s a  chillidog , and unless you’ve got a bib in your back pocket, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

"Oh."

The rest of the menu was filled with similar names such as “I can’t think straight” and “red fish, blue fish.”  According to Minho, the first dish was a bowl of rainbow colored spaghetti with pesto and bacon, and the second was a seafood platter. Newt settled on “foursome” – apparently a four-layered lasagna with different types of pasta, sauce, meat and cheese. Minho ordered the “I can’t think straight” and Thomas ordered the “dog park” which apparently had nothing to do with dogs or parks, but was just an ordinary burger with suspiciously black fries. Minho also ordered the butterscotch milkshake, and he got a large so he could share with the rest. Newt insisted he was fine with a coke.

"So what are you majoring in?" Thomas asked, sounding genuinely interested, despite the fact that Minho had been talking to Newt for several weeks, but never been bothered to ask.

"I’m doing a double major, modern literature and business." Newt almost thought Minho looked impressed, but he could never really tell with him.

"What, so you’re planning to go into business?" Thomas asked.

"Law, actually. But I want to go into corporate law, so I figured getting a major in business might help, and I just find the system interesting."

Minho snorted. ”I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard of anyone  wanting  to go into corporate law.”

"I just find it interesting." Newt shrugged. "How about you, what are you majoring in?"

"Computer technology," Thomas said.

"Yeah, I’m basically dating the two biggest nerds on campus," Minho said, making grabby hands as the waitress came over with his milkshake. He said thanks and winked at the waitress – not that Newt cared. Thomas just rolled his eyes.

"Well what about you? What are you majoring in?" Newt questioned.

"He’s majoring in ‘living life,’" Thomas replied sarcastically.

"Wha–"

"Actually, Thomas, darling, I believe he was asking me. What he meant was that I’m majoring in having a life. In other words, I’m free and undecided until the end of the school year.”  Minho almost sounded like it was something to proud of.

"Doesn’t that mean more work for you next year?"

“It means more time to make sure I don’t end up in a dead-end job I can’t stand like you losers,” Minho scoffed.

"Minho, stop being a tool." Thomas talked to Newt in a stage whisper: “It’s a touchy subject.” Minho just huffed.

Luckily their food arrived only a few minutes later and it was actually really good. Minho softened a bit and offered Newt his milkshake again. He accepted, if only to be polite. Minho was right, and it was the best milkshake he’d had since he’d started college. It tasted sweet and despite the cold, the butterscotch gave a warm taste, reminding him of snuggling under his sheets on Sunday mornings. It suited Minho.

"But I have to ask, was the piece of  klunk  story Minho told be about  Ratman  true?” Thomas asked. It was obvious him and Minho spent a lot of time together. They both used the same weird words, and it reminded Newt of that song on  Phineas  and  Ferb .

Newt raised his eyebrow “Ratman…? You mean  Janson ? Oh, yeah, that, uh, happened.” Newt tried and failed to hide how much that memory made him smile. Newt knew Minho was cocky and overly confident, but that was the first time he really got to see why, and to be quite honest it sort of turned Newt on.

"Told ya so! Thanks pretty boy, dinner’s on Thomas tonight."

Thomas scowled.

"Wait, what just happened?" Newt questioned.

"Minho has a tendency of talking out of his ass–"

"Except this time I didn’t."

"And now I owe him dinner for not believing in him,” Thomas finished, giving Minho a look.

Newt had to admit it was sort of adorable how they finished each others sentences. Minho just had a smug look on his face as he ordered extra garlic bread.

They fell into casual conversation about music and TV shows and pop culture, and who they thought would be the “next Beyoncé” (“The next  Beyoncé  is  Beyoncé ,” Minho argued). Newt and Minho ordered dessert, while Thomas insisted he wasn’t hungry, despite the fact he kept trying to steal bites from  Minho’s  “Mouse Fortress,” – cheesecake with little mouse figurines on it. Newt ordered the “Line of Coke,” which was literally a line of coke-flavored sorbet scoops. Thomas sighed as he reluctantly reached for the check.

Minho lived off campus, so Thomas and Newt walked back to the dorms alone. Newt had never really noticed how pretty Thomas was until now. Sure, Thomas was conventionally attractive and everyone knew it, but the way he lit up when he talked about the protest he was holding this weekend with Minho, Frypan and Brenda about the injustices in Ferguson was admirable.

"So, are you gonna come?" Thomas asked, all doe-eyed and adorable.

"Uh, sure." Newt couldn’t exactly say no, even though he had a massive paper to write that weekend. Thomas smiled brightly at that, but then his eyes instantly overshadowed with anger and disgust.

"Ugh, I just can’t stand it. I feel no matter what I do, nothing’s actually happening. It’s been over two months, and it feels like it’s only getting worse, and people are losing interest, and I just don’t know what to do, you know? I just, I just know I have to do something," Thomas kicked at the ground.

Newt grabbed his hand, and smiled, “Yeah Tommy, I know.” Thomas’ eyes widened, and his face froze, before he smiled and kissed Newt.

It was quick and sweet, but it took Newt by surprise. He just sort of froze in place while Thomas carried on walking without him. Newt eventually snapped out of it, and ran to catch up with Thomas. Thomas turned once he heard Newt pick up the pace. His smile turned into something of weary concern, as he glanced downwards. Newt was expecting the question before he even asked, and perhaps that’s why Thomas didn’t specify when he asked “How’d it happen?”.

“’S a long story.” Thomas dropped the subject. They’d reached the housing building.

"You’re on the fifth floor, right?" Thomas asked.

"Uh, yeah, rooming with  Alby .” Thomas nodded along, pressing the ‘5’ button on the elevator.

"Wait, aren’t you on third?"

Thomas nodded again, as if it was the least relevant piece of information on earth. ”Figured I’d walk you to your dorm.” Thomas shrugged.

Newt chuckled, throwing an arm around Thomas before pressing the ‘3’ button. ”That’s ridiculous Tommy. I’ll just walk you to yours.” The elevator pinged, and the two walked out. Newt let his arm drop from Thomas’ shoulders.

"Wait, third floor are the singles, right?" Newt asked.

"Yeah, why? Got any ideas?" Thomas smirked. Newt playfully shoved him.

"You’ve been spending too much time with Minho," Thomas just shrugged.

"So, this is me." Thomas flailed his arm absentmindedly at the general direction of his door, but gave off no intention of actually going through the door. Newt didn't really know what he was supposed to do. Well, theoretically he  did  know how most dates usually end, but this wasn't exactly a usual date. He could feel Thomas staring at him, but his eyes were glued to the carpeting, shuffling his feet.

"Well, uh, night," Newt said, finally looking up at Thomas, before heading to the elevator, telling himself that the disappointed look on Thomas' face was just his imagination.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to clear things up: yes Thomas' Ferguson protest thing is very 'white saviour', but that is because Thomas sort of is in the books. He dedicated his life to 'curing the flare' without ever being in any real risk of it. (I could go further into this if you like, just a quick reasoning) Thanks again to my beta Ember :)


	3. He was going to fail psych, not that Newt cared.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you have after psych, anyway?" Minho snapped out of his trance once they reached their building.
> 
> “Uhh, nothing until two?” Newt scratched the back of his neck.
> 
> "Great, we’ll grab lunch," Minho smiled, following him into the classroom. 
> 
> Newt then realized, probably a little too late, that he couldn’t deny how much he liked the rude, loud, nosy, and not to mention cocky sophomore.

Newt didn’t hear from either Thomas or Minho until the following Tuesday when a voice called for him across the quad. He didn’t hesitate to stop in his tracks when he heard the too familiar “pretty boy” from the too familiar pretty boy. Newt couldn’t suppress his smile as he turned towards the runner.

"Yo," Minho greeted once he caught up with Newt. "Where were you this weekend? Thomas was disappointed you didn’t show up,"

"What? Oh, uh about that…"

Minho shrugged him off. ”Nah, it’s okay. I get how Thomas is. He gets carried away sometimes, don’t really make sense of half the stuff he comes up with, but he means well, y’know?” Newt thought he did, but didn’t say anything, because that would be a weird sort of reply and it seemed like the kind of question you just nod along to, which he did.

Minho kicked at the ground and smiled to himself. ”I really had fun on Friday,” he chuckled, as if he’d remembered something particularly funny about the evening.

"Yeah, me too," Newt replied with the same sort of far-off tone in his voice as he thought of the butterscotch milkshake and how it reminded him of Minho’s smile and Thomas’ eyes.

"What do you have after psych, anyway?" Minho snapped out of his trance once they reached their building.

“Uhh, nothing until two?” Newt scratched the back of his neck.

"Great, we’ll grab lunch," Minho smiled, following him into the classroom.  

Newt then realized, probably a little too late, that he couldn’t deny how much he liked the rude, loud, nosy, and not to mention cocky sophomore.

That was to say, a lot. He liked Minho a lot.

His weird-ass humor and general nonsensical personality and all. He thought this as he stared at the corner of Minho’s eyes, and the little freckle on his cheek. He thought this as he imagined spending a Sunday afternoon with him and Thomas on the beach, and a Monday morning made a little better once he sees dark hair on the pillow beside him. He thought this as Minho turned to him and winked. He thought this as he blushed and continued his daydreaming whilst staring out the window, or doodling in his notebook.

He thought this as Janson dismissed them and the students started shuffling out the classroom. He thought this as Minho pulled him up by the back of his collar. He thought this as he realized that this was the first lecture of the year he couldn’t remember a single word from.  

"Fuck." Newt stopped thinking and started panicking.  

"What?" Minho asked, seemingly amused by Newt’s state.  

"I didn’t take any notes, I’ll fail the course and lose my scholarship."

Minho just looked at Newt incredulously. ”Dude, slim it, I’ll lend you my notes.” Minho smiled reassuringly, “Do you always freak out this much?” 

"I don’t know, maybe? Whenever you’re involved, yeah," Newt admitted.  

"How exactly is this my fault?" Minho questioned.  

"You distracted me," Newt mumbled.  

"Yeah, alright, mumbles. So tell me, where d’you wanna grab grub?” Minho slung his arm around Newt’s shoulders.  

“Whatever’s fine, I guess,” Newt grumbled.  

“Arby’s it is,” Minho smriked, steering them towards Main Street.

***

They shared a large peperoni pizza, Newt ordered a coke and Minho ordered a Dr. Pepper. Mainly Minho just filled Newt in on what he’d missed, both at the protest and in the lecture. Newt was still only half listening, too focused on Minho’s lips and the fact that they still hadn’t kissed. Not that Newt thought about them kissing, or even cared that they hadn’t.

"You know, you think too much." Minho chuckled. He did that a lot, as if he found everything about Newt undeniably hilarious. Maybe life in general just amused him. That would explain quite a few things. Would probably make Newt’s life a hell of a lot happier if he just found everything irrevocably funny.

"There ya go again, over-thinking stuff.” Minho waved his pizza crust towards Newt.

"What do you want me to do? Stop thinking?" Newt questioned.

"Nah, not really. Just, y’know, chill. What are you thinking so much about anyway? Midterms are weeks away,” Minho said, as if that cleared up any anxiety Newt might possibly have. He wasn’t worried about the midterms, but it helped all the same. "So?" Minho’s eyebrows were raised.

“Mhmm,” Newt hummed while taking a bite of the oversized pizza slice.

"You didn’t answer my question," Minho said, in an accusatory voice.

"Oh. I thought that was rhetorical," Newt replied once he’d swallowed.

“Might’ve been. I’d still like an answer,”

"That’s not exactly what a rhetorical question is," Newt retorted, although he got the feeling Minho wasn’t really listening. Newt had noticed that the boy had incredibly selective hearing.

"Uh, nothing, just y’know, stuff,” Newt gave in.

"Right," Minho replied, clearly not convinced by Newt’s bullshit answer, but letting it go in favor of talking about his current favorite TV show. This week it was How to Get Away with Murder (or as Minho so eloquently put it, ‘ _How to get off in 5 seconds flat_ ’), last week it was Suits, and Newt was starting to sense a pattern.

When they were done, Minho paid the bill and kissed him at the door before sprinting off to his one o’clock class. It felt so natural Newt didn’t even react until Minho had turned the corner and out of sight.

It wasn’t a bad kiss. Newt could hardly imagine Minho being bad at anything. Well, maybe like clog-dancing or being serious for more than a minute at a time. The kiss was just brief. Like the sort of kiss you’d give to someone you’d been seeing for two months, but it sort of fit. Technically they had been flirting, or whatever you’d like to call it for at least two months, but still.

Newt was considering whether there was much point in going back to his dorm, but he figured if anyone could make sense of the clusterfuck that was his mind, it had to be Alby.  
  
***  
  
Alby was half-way through his noon nap, when Newt barged in and practically pulled him out of bed.   
  
"What d'ya want," Alby groaned, rolling onto his stomach.   
  
"Help," Newt stated, rolling him back towards him.   
  
"Minho?"   
  
"Yes,"   
  
"What did he do?"   
  
"Took me to lunch,"  
  
"Oh, the horror! Can I go back to sleep now?" Alby rolled back around.   
  
"He kissed me, Alby!" Alby, rolled towards him again, eyeing him.   
  
"Alright, I'll bite. What exactly's wrong?" Alby asked, sitting up on the bed.   
  
"It was like a peck goodbye, like I don't know if that means we're gotten to the relationship stage, in which that is just a thing, or if that's just a thing Minho does, and I'm just overreacting," Newt explained.   
  
"Okay, so basically there is no problem and you've got two hot boyfriends, and felt like pulling me out of bed to make me jealous," Alby huffed.   
  
"Alby, c'mon, you know it's not like that. You said I could talk to you about this shit," Newt pouted.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's just, I'm allowed to get jealous. Also, as far as I can tell you still seem to not actually have a problem, and you're just over-thinking things as usual," Alby sighed.   
  
"Well what am I supposed to do?"   
  
"Call him! Ask him out on a date, have phone sex, all of the above, whatever, you can't really go wrong at this point," Alby said, tucking himself back into bed.   
  
"Thanks Al," Newt whispered before kissing Alby's forehead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorta short chapter, and late update, so thank you so much for your patience!! <3 (And as always thanks to Ember for being my fabulous beta)


	4. He hated parties, not that Minho cared.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe Minho wasn’t entirely certain whether or not Newt was going to be there, or if he even liked parties himself, but he’d texted him an invitation and Newt responded ‘k’, so Minho assumed he was coming.
> 
> Despite his assumptions, however, he never imagined this. The second he dragged Thomas through the front door of Kappa Kappa Delta, Minho came face-first with Newt’s belly button as he was held up in a keg stand.

"But, Thomas! You promised!" Minho whined.

"I didn’t promise anything, besides, I have this giant essay to write, and you’re really not helping," Thomas replied, busying himself with writing and rewriting the title of his essay with increasing frustration.

"Well, I mean, if you didn’t leave everything to the last minute every damn time, you might actually have a social life,” Minho snarked.

"I had to organize the protest," Thomas huffed, as if what Minho was saying was completely unreasonable.

"Yes, of course, you had to organize a protest against issues that don’t even affect you,” Minho whispered to himself.

"What?" Thomas asked half-heartedly, too focused on choosing the font of his title.

"I said, Newt will be there…"

Thomas spun his chair around at that. ”Actually, I can just get the notes from Frypan and do it all tomorrow,” Thomas said, hurrying out of his chair and towards the closet.

"I thought you hated parties?" Minho called after him.

"Maybe, but I love cute business majors."

***

Okay, so maybe Minho wasn’t entirely certain whether or not Newt was going to be there, or if he even liked parties himself, but he’d texted him an invitation and Newt responded ‘k’, so Minho assumed he was coming.

Despite his assumptions, however, he never imagined this. The second he dragged Thomas through the front door of Kappa Kappa Delta, Minho came face-first with Newt’s belly button as he was held up in a keg stand.

Minho stood frozen, entirely mesmerized by the image. Newt’s veins popped and muscles bulged as he held himself upright on the keg. Minho couldn’t see much of his face with his torso was in the way — not that Minho was complaining — and his stomach was exposed, showing off surprisingly toned abs and a faint happy trail.

Minho looked over at Thomas, who was also staring, jaw-dropped, at the boy in front of him. By the time Minho looked back at Newt he was working his way back to solid ground. It took a second for him to take in his surroundings, but once he noticed Thomas and Minho, he reached out his arms and welcomed them with a hug.

“Was’up?” he slurred. Thomas and Minho seemed equally confused by the whole ordeal. 

Newt welcomed them to the party and showed them around, introducing them to Harriet, Sonya, Rachel, Gally and Zart, who were hanging out in the kitchen with Teresa. 

"Hey Tom…" Teresa greeted. Thomas froze, and Minho just glared.

"So, I’m guessing you already met, huh?" Newt chimed in.

"Uh, yeah. I’m gonna get some drinks, you coming Thomas?" Before Thomas had a chance to reply Minho guided him out of the room with a hand on his back.

The drinks were back in the living room, which was pretty much packed, but it helped drown the stream of thoughts intruding Thomas’ brain. Minho was ahead of him, hand intertwined with his as he tried to make his way across the room. Minho poured a cup for the both of them, and then led him up to a spare room. It was more difficult than Minho expected, and they had to settle for a cramped storage room full of gym equipment, and boxes with suspicious markings.

"You okay?" Minho asked, once he’d closed the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. This really isn’t necessary,” Thomas reassured.

"Yeah, it’s just… I know how you get around her, and I didn’t want some piece of trash slinthead ruin your night.”

"I told you, it’s fine." Thomas gave him a small smile, yet the whispers persisted.

Trust me Tom, no matter what happens, trust me.

They just kept getting louder and louder.

WICKED is good.

Then screams. Just deafening screams, which he couldn’t even make out anymore. The pain was mind-wrecking, almost literally. Thomas collapsed to the floor with his hands tearing at his hair.

"Hey, hey, babe." Minho tried to comfort him, placing a gentle hand on his back, but Thomas practically slapped it away.

Then they heard knocking. ”Minho? Thomas?”

Thomas groaned.

Minho rushed to the door.

"You honestly have the worst timing," Minho whispered hastily, carding his fingers through his hair.

"Why, what’s wrong?" Newt asked, trying to peer through the small gap in the door.

"It’s Thomas… and it’s complicated," Minho said, looking over his shoulder at Thomas, who was currently on the floor, shaking.

"I think I might be able to help… I- I’m sort of experienced with… complications," Minho narrowed his eyes, before opening the door.

"What the hell, it’s worth a shot. Just don’t make me regret this," Minho warned.

Newt hurried over to crouch by Thomas. ”Tommy? Hey, it’s me. It’s Newt. If you can hear me, could you look up for a second?” Thomas winced but did as he was told.

"Good, you’re doing so great Tommy. Just breathe, yeah? Just in, then out. Look at that! You’re doing great," Newt encouraged, keeping eye contact with him.

"Okay, okay, do you want to stand up for a bit?" Newt asked.

"I, uh, think I’m just gonna sit here… Could you, uh maybe leave? Like just for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure I’ll be right outside.. Minho too?"

Thomas nodded, and they both exited.

"Does he get like this a lot?" Newt asked.

"I don’t know. He can be fine for months, and then there’s weeks where it’s just non-stop on and off. Usually he gets bad whenever she’s around, or when he’s really bad it can be anything from being out of milk to crowded spaces… God! I knew he hated parties, but it’s not like I cared, I just wanted what was best for me, as usual–”

“It’s not your fault. You were there when he needed you and that’s all that matters, okay?” Newt said, cupping Minho’s face to force him to make eye contact. “Is he getting treated?”

"Uhm, he was, but his parents aren’t exactly rich. And after losing his sports scholarship, by having to retake freshman year, they couldn’t afford both. Thomas insisted this was what he wanted,"

Then there was silence.

"Thanks, by the way, for what you did in there. You really are good for him."

"I really didn’t do much–”

"But you did! I mean, I’ve been taking psych so that maybe I could help him, but I still can’t calm him down when he gets bad and I just don’t know what to do… but you — you did. So thank you.”

Newt looked at him, not quite sure what to say. ”We should check on Tommy, it’s not good for him to be alone too long,” Newt was about to knock on the door, when Minho grabbed his arm.

"Before you go back in there I need to know if you’re planning on leaving, because it’s better if you do it now… I mean, you’re the only person since her that he let’s call him anything other than Thomas. If you leave I think it’ll really break him.

Newt hesitated, gave a small smile, and knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo sorry for the late update!! December was such a hectic month for me, thank you for not giving up on me!! and as always thanks to Ember for beta-ing, idk what I'd do without you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first maze runner fic, lemme know how I did. Thanks again to my wonderful beta Ember. Also I will try to post on a monthly basis (if not more frequently), but school is being a drag so I'm not making any promises.


End file.
